


Seek and Destroy

by CaptainBat



Series: New Cybertron [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: A whole lot of hurt, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Less than perfect parenting, M/M, Mech Preg, Seeker Trines, This will be a doozy of a fic, Toddlers stopping a space war, Transformer Sparklings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 10:17:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17558519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainBat/pseuds/CaptainBat
Summary: “ War does not determine who is right - only who is left. “- Bertrand RussellOn one side, there was an Autobot. Brash and brave, he was, carrying a spark heavy with guilt and longing for a change. For a home he had never seen but craved something horrible, just to know that their sacrifices weren’t going to be in vain.On the other, there was a Decepticon. Strong willed, with a quick mind and a want to go beyond what everyone wanted of him. Who was tired of the war, tired of the fighting, tired of being a soldier for a cause that he didn’t even understand. Tired of knowing every day was another chance to lose his brothers.They didn’t know how they would do it, or how they could even begin. All they knew was that Primus brought them together for a reason.They were going to end this war.Or die trying.





	Seek and Destroy

**Author's Note:**

> please be gentle with me, I’m still getting used to writing cybertronians (chapters like this will likely end up getting rewrote at some point or another haha)

 

**_Another pin pushed in_ **

**_To remind us where we’ve been_ **

**_And every mile adds up_ **

**_And leaves a mark on us_ **

 

\----

 

   If one didn't know better, they would think that Autobot Outpost Omega One had been abandoned. Every light, except for the few emergency ones set into the main room, was off, shrouding the base in darkness. A few pieces of equipment-alien in system and make- flashed lethargically in the dark, casting an eerie glow across metal railing and heavy wall coverings as alerts came and went unheeded. Everything looked undisturbed but disorganized, as if one had needed to get out quickly, and had no time to spare for uniform. Everything was quiet.

   That was, until a small sparkling stumbled into view, tugging along a towering mech four times his size.

   Ranger peered over his shoulder for what must have been the third time in very few minutes, his soft lilac optics meeting those of the larger ‘bot behind him. His little pedes moved far too quickly for his cargo, and they skittered across the scuffed floor as he tried and tried again to run ahead. Impatiencey ran through him like a freight train, and he gave the mech another pleading look. “ Hurry _up, Sire! “_

__

   The blue and red mech chuckled quietly, a warm, deep sound that Ranger could feel rattling through where their hands met. “ Patience, Ranger, there will be plenty of time, “ He said gently, giving him a small tug to pull him back to his side. “ You need to be quiet. We don’t want to wake up the others. “

   He pouted lightly. “ Why not? They’d like it...Oracle loves the stars, he got Ratchet to let him watch space shuttle go up once...why can't he come see? “

   “ He needs to sleep, little bit. He's had a long day. “ He stumbled on the floor, and squeaked as large hands slipped beneath his arms, hoisting him up into the air and settling him on a hip. His little maroon servos caught on the seams in his armor, and he clung tightly against his sire. Puffs of air from his chest vents drifted across his cheeks as he tilted his head up, meeting Optimus’s deep blue optics. They were full of a warmth and love that left him feeling fuzzy inside, and he giggled as he leaned down and nuzzled against his faceplates.

   He hummed quietly, ducking his head close to his sire’s neck. “ Sire? “ He asked, voice muffled from where he was pressed against him.

   “ Yes? “

   “ Do they like going into space? “

   “ Who? “

   Ranger pulled his helm back to look at him again. “ The shuttles. Do they like it? “

   Optimus opened his mouth, closed it, and then he smiled. “ Yes, I imagine that they would. But, bit, “ He heard the tone change, and he frowned. He didn’t like it when this tone was used. It meant his sire was going to lecture him again, and he hated his lectures. “ These shuttles aren’t like you and I. Do you remember how I said that many of the machines here on Earth cannot transform? “

   Ranger nodded slowly, an audial drooping. “ So...they can't? “ He asked. His voice betrayed his disappointment.

   He shook his head, and the sparkling frowned. “ Do we have any shuttles, Sire? “

   Optimus chuckled. “ We do. I was friends with one back on Cybertron, actually. I believe you would like him, if you met him. He was a scientist. “ One of his large hands curled around Ranger’s head, and he churred happily, pressing close to the large chassis beneath his helm. He could hear the metallic whirring of his spark as he did so, hidden beneath layers of plating and metal. He purred and tried to snuggle closer, the noise soothing and relaxing his wild-running system. His optics flickered.

   “ Don't go to recharge yet, little one. “ He slowly unshuttered his optics and looked up at his sire’s chin; he had tilted his helm back up. “ You do still want to see the stars, do you not? “

   His audials jolted up and he hoisted himself higher, nodded rapidly. Of _course_ he did! He had been waiting all week for this! Optimus had _promised_ to take him out once he had finished writing his reports. (He still wouldn't tell him _why_ the reports were so important that he had to get them done _right then_. He was always told he would ‘learn when he was older.’)

   They were stupid. He knew they were about the ‘Cons’ (whatever that meant) who kept him and the others inside the base even when they weren’t around, and his sire was back in from the green light. It made no sense why his sire wrote so much about them if he hated them so much. He didn’t speak to Blitz for a whole week after he broke one of the little wire femmes his sister had helped him make. Why didn’t he do the same? Couldn't he just ignore them until they apologized?

   He had asked for more before, but all he’d gotten was a shake of a head and a pat on the backstruts. “ You’ll learn when you’re older, “ He had been told. That’s what he was _always_ told. Never any real answers, not even from Bulkhead. He just wanted to go outside and see the sun and the stars when he wanted to. Ratchet said he should be able to transform before long, too, and he wanted to drive out on the roads with Blitz. (He was already able to.)

   Oracle would transform before he did, though. He didn't like that. It was just another playmate who could do what he couldn't. At least Zephyr was still too tiny to drive...

   The large metal doors in front of them split apart with no sound, and he squinted his optics against the bright moonlight that knocked against his sensitive systems. Chill bit at the edges of his plating, and he snuggled ever impossibly closer to his sire’s chassis, reaching for the warmth that his larger frame produced. He tensed, and then purred quietly as a large weight was draped around his frame and tucked close to his thin plating.  Warmth spread through his systems, and Optimus gave his back plates a soft pat over the heavy blanket.

   After a moment, he chanced opened his optics wider. He gave a quiet gasp. The stars before him appeared almost limitless in the wide expanse of black- they could fill the whole base, and still have some left over, it seemed. They were bright and shiny- like tiny little lamps spread out through the sky. They seemed so close, almost like he could reach out and touch one if he wanted to…

   “ They're a little too far away, Ranger, “ His sire laughed, in his kind, warm voice, close to his audial. They shot up straight, then slicked down when he saw he had truly had begun reaching for them. He quickly dropped his arm to his side, cheeks hot. He knew that!

   Comfort and pure, undiluted love encompassed him through his field and soothed his stuttering systems. His vents caught, and he shook his head to hide the hitch. If he started up now, he’d be taken back inside, and that was the last thing he wanted. His sire gently stroked his back, and he ducked his helm low.

   “ Hiccup, little mach? “

   He nodded.

   The embarrassment was bleeding away, though, and he relaxed back against his chest plates, gripping onto the armor with both hands.

   “ Have you ever been shown a constellation, Ranger? “

   The question took him by surprise, and he shook his head. “ I thought…we were going to see the stars…? “

   “ We are, don't worry. Constellations are still stars- but these are groups of them. form shapes. Some humans even believe that certain constellations, known as the Zodiacs, can influence their personalities and their lives. “

   “ But...why? They’re just stars… “ He peered closer at them. _Could_ they make someone nicer, or make a person have a better life? They did not seem like much, and they were so little…how could something so small do something like that?

   “ Humans have some rather strange ideals and mindsets, “ Optimus murmured. His face scrunched up a little at the words, his processor sluggish against the odd new terms. His sire had said mind, though- did the humans have strange processors, then?

   They certainly did if they believed that _stars_ were the ones that decided their lives!

   “ So...they believe that...the _stars_ give them their lives? Is that their Primus, then? “

   “ Not exactly. They have...many different Primuses. Some believe in several different ones- they may believe in one that raises the sun, the moon, that governs over their agriculture, and their fertility- “

   “ What’s that? “ He interrupted

   “ I...will tell you once you’re older. “

   “ Aww! Why not now? “

   “ Shh, little spark. “ A large finger was pressed to his lips as his sire continued on, his voice hurried. “ Some also believe in only one, and that he created everything in their universe. They have...many different ideas on their world, and how it was made... and these ideas often cause issues between the humans. “

   “ Like us? “ He asked quietly. Optimus gave him a look tinged with sadness, and his field lingered with something that made his spark cringe. His small audials drooped. He didn’t mean to make him sad…

   He reached up as far as he could go, servos clasping against his cheeks. He leaned up above his chassis, pressing his small faceplates to the side of his sire’s faceplate. A hand was pressed against his backplates, and a gentle kiss was placed to his forehelm.

   “ I’m alright, Ranger, settle now. I’m alright. “ The hand patted his plating and adjusted him back against his shoulder, so he could easy look up at him and the sky. He listened to the whirring of his vents, and tried to slow his own to match his. He caught a look his his eye, however, and knew that he’d seen what he was doing- he gave him a little smile, which was quickly returned. His sire’s field felt calm once more.

   “ Can you see anything up there, Ranger? “ He asked, tilting his head to him.

   Earlier sadness forgotten, he turned his helm upwards, until the back clinked against his shoulder. He squinted up at the dark sky, optics going a few shades brighter. Nothing was showing up, though, so matter how hard he looked. He had been shown a few shapes before, whenever Oracle was searching around the computer and his Sire didn’t know he was still awake, but he couldn’t find any of them.

   “ Tilt your head down, bit. “

   He gave him a confused look, but did as he was told. Why did he want him looking at the rocks? The rocks didn’t have any stars in them!

   Right?

  A laugh. “ Not that far. “ A much larger servo titled his chin up so that it was level with where the tops of the rocks met the sky. “ Look in here. Do you see anything, Altair? “

    He traced the sky with his eyes, face screwing up in frustration the longer he looked. There wasn’t anything there! Just the same stars. He didn’t even know what he was looking for!  
   “ Calm. “ The pressure on his back increased, holding him still and in one spot. He ducked his face down, hiding it into his neck. One of his vents caught, breaking the steady rhythm they had been running at and sending an uneven burst of chilly air through his body. He tried to press closer to hide it.

   “ Are you cold, Ranger? “ He shook his head.

   “ Are you lying to me? “

   A pause, and then he gave a very tiny nod.

   “ Do you need to go inside? “

   “ No! “ He shot upwards, so fast his helm spun. “ I don’t wanna go in yet! I have my blanket, I’m fine! “

   “ Then you need to be calm. Your systems will short out again if you are not. Do you understand? Can you do that for me? “

   He looked away, and nodded again. He knew he wasn’t really being scolded, but he didn’t like hearing that tone on his sire. It always made him feel guilty.

   He was pat on the helm. “ Not everyone can find them easily, little one. They can be tricky, “ A small bump to his cheek, which was then cupped in a servo, “ Especially to developing optics. “

   He shook his head against the hold. “ My optics are _fine_ , Sire, “ He protested, trying to assure him by placing his hand over his creator's large one. “ See? I can see you just fine! “

   “ I can see that, “ Optimus said as he released the steady pressure he had put on his back. “ Do you want to try it again? “

   “ ...Could...could you help me? “

   “ Of course I can. “  

   He followed along as his sire raised his optics, and pointed out towards the dark sky. The star clusters still seemed just that- star clusters. He looked up at his sire’s faceplates, and could see they looked bright and relaxed, like there was nothing more to look for. How could he see anything? They all just looked squished and blobby- and pretty…

   “ Now, constellations are simple to find once you know what you're looking for. Do you know any of them, Ranger? Has Oracle showed you any? “

   His body froze, and he could feel a strange, unreadable feeling at the edges of his sire’s field. He was never looking at the stars except for those nights with the youngling. He’d been caught. No more late nights with Oracle.

   He nodded slowly. “ H-He’s showed me a few, “ Ranger said quietly. “ He usually only looks at the rockets, though...he doesn’t like the stars much. “

   “ Do you know any of their names? “

   “ There...there was a spoon? There were two of them...“  
   Amusement brushed against him. “ Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. The humans call them other names though- the Big Dipper- the seven brightest stars of Ursa Major, and the Little Dipper. So, yes, you could call them spoons. “

   “ They look like em! “ He put his arms out. “ They’re, like, this big thought! And a spoon is so little...“

   “ Now, where did you get a spoon at? “

   “ Fowler left one of their human ones here before. Blitz knew what it was. “

   “ Did he, now? Where is it? “  
   He shrugged. “ I dunno. Oracle took it. “ He paused. “ Maybe it’s in the sky, sire. That’s why we see the shapes. Whenever someone loses their spoons, it becomes one in the sky! “

   His sire’s plating shook, and he realized with a start that he was trying to stifle his laughter. He could feel his own frame tremble along with his sire, and he grabbed tightly back onto his front, suddenly scared of being dropped. “ Y- yes, Ranger- “ A pause for another chuckle, “ That’s _e-exactly_ how. “

   He pouted, and poked his chest hard. “ You’re making fun of me! “

   A shake of a helm, a few more shoulder-shaking laughs, and his sire met his eyes, face warm and caring. His field lied, however, still full of mirth and a teasing energy he hardly ever felt with his sire. He laughed, but he never got into it, or joked around often. It always felt...too flat. This did not.

   “ I am not, Ranger. “

   “ Yes you are! “  
   He jolted as he was brought upward, and swatted at his sire’s faceplates as he tucked him in close, pressing his nose to his cheek. “ _Sire_! “ He cried in protest.

   “ You’re silly, “ He murmured. He was clutched closer, almost enough to make his thin metal twinge with pain. “ Don't ever lose that. “

   He blinked. “ How could I lose it? It can't run away. “

   A beat past, and then he squeaked as he was tucked impossibly further against his plating. The warmth was quickly radiating through him, however, making up for the glitch in his regulator. It was working through him, and he blinked again, this time much slower.

   Optimus puffed his vents, and he shuddered against the now-chilly air, bringing his legs closer to him. Optimus took notice, and grabbed a loose blanket corner, tucking it tight around him. “ I think it's time you see some constellations, “ he whispered close to his audial, “ Before you fall into recharge. “

   He was bounced lightly, rousing him from his shoulder. He rubbed at an optic until his sire’s large servo came into focus. “ Ursa Major is much larger than Ursa minor. It’s made up of seven stars- do you know what shape? “

   Ranger’s expression soured. “ A _spoon_. A bent one. “

   He chortled, and the sparkling swatted at his chestplates.

   “ Alright, alright, bit. Once you find one of the constellations, you can usually find the other. An easy way to find either is to find the North Star, or Polaris- a very, very bright star in the Northern Hemisphere. It is part of Ursa Minor’s ‘handle’ or ‘tail.’ It’s also above the corner of Ursa Major’s. Look up this way- follow my servo, there you go- do you see any that are brighter than the others? “

   He leaned forward against his arm, balancing his hands against the thick, cold plating. All the stars looked bright, especially to his developing optics. For a few, it was even difficult to tell where one started and one ended. He bit at a lip plate in concentration. There was one that looked rather bright…

   He pointed. “ That one? “

   “ Almost. “ His hand was lifted up, and angled upwards, towards another star, one that he had almost missed from a light glare. “ That’s Polaris, the handle of the Little Dipper. Now, follow me again, “ He started tracing along the sky, and he followed, eyes wide. There was a line of rather bright stars he was moving along with, and then it went into-

   “ I see it! “ His optics shot a shade brighter, and he bounced in place, his field full of unrestrained joy where it pressed hard against his sire’s. It was so clear, now that he knew where it was- large and bright in the sky above him, shining happily down on them. The sleep lingering in his body and the chill biting at his corners was long forgotten- he could see the shapes!

   “ Do you want to see the Big Dipper! “  
   He gasped quietly. “ Yeah! “

   “ Look beneath it, at a slight angle. “ His head was lightly pushed the opposite direction as he turned it. “ Other way, bitlet. Do you see another bright star? It’s close to the one you found earlier. “

   He nodded rapidly.

   “ That is the corner of Ursa Major’s ladle. It’s similar to Ursa Minor- just follow the stars back the other direction. “

   Ranger looked closely, slowly following along the path of the stars. He was practically vibrating with excitement. “ I see it! “ He tugged on his sire’s hand, pointing with his own. “ Right there! “  
   Optimus laughed quietly, and tugged him back closely, lifting him up higher so he could see them better. “ That it is, Ranger. You’re a smart sparkling, aren’t you? “

   Usually he would have protested against the use of ‘sparkling’- (He wasn’t, after all. Zephyr was and he cried all the time, but Ranger didn’t- so how could they both be sparklings?) But he only nodded slowly, too preoccupied with the twinkling lights above.

   “ Next time we come out, I’ll show you the rest of Ursa Major. I also hope I’ll be able to show you the Summer Triangle. Your sister is rather good at finding it herself, now. “

   “ You’ve taken her out? “

   “ She comes out here a lot herself. She likes to have alone time- you know this, Altair. “

   “ …She always seems so sad when she comes back. “

   “ She is alright. She just...she misses Cybertron greatly. “

   He bit at his lips against, frowning. The field against his felt sad again, dampening the happiness his own was projecting.  “ Sire? “

   “ Yes, Ranger? “

   “ Can you see Cybertron from here? Maybe if she can see it...she won’t be so sad? “

   There was a rather long silence between them, and he fidgeted in his hold, anxious that he has said something wrong. Was it a bad idea? Did his sire think it a mistake to even mention that? What if it only made her more sad?

   “ I...I believe that, if you looked hard enough...maybe you could, Altair. I do. “ His voice sounded unsure, leaving an uneasy feeling in his tanks. He was never unsure- he was a leader, a great one, and he _always_ knew what to do. There wasn’t _anything_ he didn’t know.

   He leaned back voluntarily, pressing tight against him. “ I think you could, too, if you looked hard enough, “ he whispered. He pointed high into the sky, picking one star, in a small cluster a ways above his head. “ I think that’s it. See? There’s Cybertron, and there’s Luna One, and Luna Two, “ He pointed them out as he went, choosing two tiny stars by it. “ and Solarith is there… “

   Never having seen Cybertron certainly didn’t mean he knew nothing about it. Whenever the older ‘Bots were home from missions, they would tell him and the others stories of their _real_ home. Stories about Vos, the great, towering city of the clouds, where seekers had roamed and thrived away from the hands and hold of the grounders below. He had especially loved the story of their Winglordess, Thunderpoint, and of her flight and bravery to protect her people and get them to Solarith when the city fell. (Ratchet had told that one, when they were alone in the base, and made them swear to not talk about it. They weren’t supposed to hear about it, not yet.)

   They had gasped in horror with the retellings of the first strike by the newly fledged ‘Decepticons’ in Kaon, and were saddened as they learned of the same strike that offlined his great-grandsire, and nearly his grandcarrier. They sat, on edge, through a retelling of the fall of Praxus, and of the destruction of the beautiful city it once had been, reduced to bombed-out rubble. Later on that same night, he’d had his sister tell him about her first time visiting one of their crystal gardens. She’d returned a few weeks later from exploring a cave with a tiny crystal for him, which he kept tucked in his subspace to this day.

   He had laid awake for hours, tucked close to his sire’s side, and listened to his stories of Iacon, his home city, and of the beauty it was. He wove tales of the state buildings he had once called his own, of the shining streets and gardens of silver flowers, where he had first met his carrier, a visit from the wild city of Nyon. He told stories of the start of the war, and of his companions and soldiers, of their joys and their triumphs, their wins and their losses. They were tales of love, of unity and happiness and family, of a world he had never seen and longed so greatly to go to.

   Staring at the stars, he could almost imagine the cities themselves, tall and bright and strong, like the war never happened. He could picture the bright, larger-than-life seeker towers and their towering palace, open to the world and to the wind they so loved. He could see the Senate buildings of Iacon, their lights shining above that of Earth’s sun, shouting to the entire planet that they were there and were not going anywhere. He could imagine the mechs and femmes that lived there, when the bad mechs weren’t there and weren’t hurting people, happy and free and safe. He could imagine the world he wanted to live in.

   He tilted his head back further, to see his sire’s optics unfocused and distant as watched something unseen. He pushed out with his field, and ran along the edges of his, feeling the lingering sadness and longing just beneath the surface. His lips dropped into a frown.

 

   “ _What are you looking at?_ “

 

   The not-so-quiet whisper shocked the sparkling out of his relaxed state. His wings shot high into the air, much higher than his still developing joints allowed, and he gave a sharp, short squeal. He clapped his hands over his mouth, looking nervously over towards a droopy bundle on the far side of the room. A tiny wing twitched beneath a thick mesh blanket, but the form didn’t move again. He hurriedly rubbed at his soring backplates, and glaring optics met sleepy red.

   “ Stormshot! “ He hissed.

   The purple seekerling didn’t even react to his aggressive snarl. “ What are you looking at, Nightlock? “ He asked again, quieter this time. He rubbed underneath an optic.

   He grunted, turning his back. “ None of your business. “

   His brother was quiet, then he heard the sound of metal rubbing against itself. He looked over a shoulder to where Stormshot was rolling out of his berth, stretching out oversized wings and shoulder joints. He dropped down onto the cold metal floor, and padded over to him and his windowsill.

   If it had been Crossfire he would have helped to hoist him up next to him (Whenever the littlest seeker was awake, which he nearly never was this late) but Stormshot was the biggest of the three, and didn’t need any help from his older trinemate. Small hands grabbed at the wall and pulled himself up, and Nightlock shuffled to the side. He churred quietly at him as his brother settled in beside him, his own wings falling down into a relaxed position. The joints still ached, but hanging low made them feel better.

   He turned back to the window, faceplates pressed close to the thick glass. “ ...It’s really clear tonight, “ he said quietly after a minute, hesitation making his words choppy. “ I wanted to see the stars. “

   He was lying.

   His brother saw right through him. “ Carrier is going to be _fine_. He’s done missions like this hundreds of times! “

   “ But what if he isn’t? He fought with Sire before he left. What if he’s distracted now? What if he gets hurt because of it? “

   “ Carrier was fighting with Sire? “

   He looked over at him at his puzzled tone. “ You didn’t see it? “

   Stormshot shook his head. “ I...I didn’t see him before he left. Not until he came to say bye. Do you...know what it was about? “

   He shrugged, and dropped his chin onto his knees. He never knew _what_ they fought about, but it was _all the time_. His creators yelled every hour of the day, and he’d even seen weird marks on them after they argued. His sire sometimes had claw marks and scuffed paint, his carrier dents in his plating and crooked wings. They were never around long enough to see what happened. One of his uncles would always swoop in and take them away. They told them they were just stressed, and that leading an army was difficult, but he didn’t see why they had to yell so much. Even Crossfire didn’t yell as loud as he’s heard them.

   “ Skywarp said that they were just stressed. He thought I wasn’t looking, but...Carrier was limping again. His leg looked all messed up. “

   He felt the edges of his trinemate’s field unconsciously pressing against his own, tinged with worry and a lingering nervousness. He adjusted a wing so it could press against the edges of the bigger sparkling’s, ignoring the burn it left in his joints.

   Stormshot exvented sharply. “ Is that why Sire looked so angry? “

   “ You’ve seen him? “

   “ I did earlier, he was going into his study...he didn't want to talk to me. “ His servos laced together nervously, his own wings twitching sporadically. “ He shut the door in my face. “

   Nightlock sat up straight, tilting his head to look at his brother. “ He did? “

   He nodded, and pressed closer to his side, tucking under his arm. The cold catch of his plating caused his vents to stall, but he did not push him away. Their sire was not around to get angry at them, and Stormshot was obviously distraught. He could feel it in his developing, wild field and their bond, poking at the back of his processor and reminding him, over and over, that it was his duty to protect them and keep them safe.

   Thundercracker said it would level out once he was older, and knew they could defend themselves, but the oldest trinemate never lost the urge and need to protect his wingmates. Especially not in war.

   ‘ _Your carrier might be second in command, but I still have to save his thrusters every once and a while_ ,’ He had laughed. Carrier had given his a nice dent on his helm for that remark, though he remembered how much he had mellowed out for the rest of the day.

   Stormshot’s soft chur brought him back, to where he had leaned his head forward, out of the safety of the oversized planes of metal. He was close to the window, his hot exvents fogging up the glass. Crossfire would have drawn smiley faces into it. He looked over his shoulder at the sleeping seekerlet across the room. His blanket was sprawled across the berth now, but he had not moved himself. _Let’s hope it stays that way._ He loved his brother, but he was angry when he was tired. Not to mention _loud_.

   “ What are _you_ looking at? “ He repeated the previous question to the bigger sparkling, slowly turning his head back to him. Stormshot pressed a finger hard to the cold glass. “ Look out here- no, here! Look at that bright star! “

   He adjusted his head to be pressed against his brother’s sharp finials, bending the soft metal to fit his helm. He was chirped at angrily in response, but a poke to his side got the big sparkling focused again. “ What _about_ the star? “

   “ It's super bright- Rotorbeam told me that the really really shiny ones are planets. “

   “ That's a lot of planets, “ He grumped. There were plenty of bright stars out there-  in the sky- he could see at least four as it was. Why was that one so important? It wasn’t any brighter than any of the others. “ How many planets does Earth have? “

   Stormshot rolled his optics high into the air. “ Earth doesn’t have _planets_ , bit-brain, “ He grumbled back. “ They have a moon. “

   “ Only one? That’s stupid “

   “ Cybertron got a moon destroyed, Nightlock. We have the same amount! “

   “ They can’t even make use of it! We built bases on ours. They could hardly even get to it. “

   “ Nightlock. _Destroyed_. “

   He waved a hand dismissively. “ Does it matter? Doesn’t make the fleshies any less processor dead. “

   “ Sidefuse wouldn’t like you saying that, “ The purple sparkling muttered. He huffed his vents. Sidefuse was Diagni’s oldest sparkling. He was huge, with too big pedes and no wings. But he was almost as strong as their sire, and he liked to restrain them during check-ups whenever they acted up.

   He kind of scared him, especially with Diagni as a Sire. (Not that he would ever let his brother know that.)

   He probably already did, though.

   Stormshot shook his head, as if he was trying to clear his thoughts. “ No, no. No talking about stupid fleshies. Look at the star, “ He repeated.

   “ It’s a planet- it has to be. It’s bright enough to be one. “ His optics brightened almost impossibly further.

   “ What if it’s _Cybertron_? “

   Nightlock’s wings tensed, the only sign of motion an occasional questioning flick of the top sensor joint. They had been told plenty about the planet they would one day be fighting for, and all the Decepticons did for it and it’s people. Sometimes, his carrier would read them old Vosinian storybooks, about brave Winglord children saving flightless seekers from evil grounders. (They always kissed afterwards, and it was gross. Carrier always laughed at him, and said that ‘he would think differently when he was older.’ He didn’t want to think differently. He didn’t want any nasty mech’s mouth on his.)

   He always said it was the same with what their Sire did for their people, for their Decepticons. Especially the seekers, like him. That he saved them from the bad mechs that came to their city, and hurt their people. He was their own fairytale hero, who was the one that would bring him and his trine back home to Cybertron.

   They were told that it used to be beautiful, full of shining cities and energon lakes, and the clearest skies imaginable. Ones full of the softest breezes, that could catch every wing sensor perfectly. (Stormshot loved the Sky Dancers. They had a few vids of them that were salvaged before their ship came to earth. Sire didn’t like them, and he hated that Stormshot watched them, but Storm loved them)]

   It was beautiful, and everything he wanted to see. It was also nowhere close to Earth.

   “ It can’t be, Stormshot, “ He dropped his arms against the metal sill, and crossed them under his chin. His brother pouted, and his field rippled with irritation. He sent back his own bite, letting his wing be pushed at.

   “ You don’t know that. “

   “ Yes I do. Cybertron is way too far away for us to see- “

   The door opened with a gentle whoosh, and both sparkling froze, wings held high and stiff. He slowly turned his head to look at Stormshot, who looked equally as frightened.

   He listened as heavy pedes made their way across the room, stopping close behind the brothers. He could feel the change in pressure in his wing sensors, but he couldn’t feel a field. He tried not to gulp.

   A moment passed, and Stormshot let out a tiny sigh that left fog on the window. Before he knew it, a silver arm, much bigger than he was, wrapped around his waist and hoisted him up. He squealed at the quick movement, grabbing tightly into the plating seams and kicking his tiny pedes in the open air. He was tucked close to a thickly-plated side, and his tiny, clawed fingers immediately dropped to attach against the metal. He could tell by Stormshot’s own yelp that he was given the same treatment, though there was a screech of metal and a few tiny claw marks left against the window sil.

   “ And what are you two doing up? “

   He tilted his head back, to meet tired red optics, shadowed with a touch of irritation. He smiled weakly up at him. “ H-hi, ‘Re. “

   He wasn’t amused. “ Nightlock. “

   The oldest sparkling huffed his engines angrily. “ I didn’t do anything! “

   “ When are you _not_ the ringleader, sparklet? “

   “ He couldn’t sleep, Sire, “ Stormshot piped up, shuffling around so he could sit up straighter and out of the warm cocoon their creator’s frame made for them. “ So he was watching the stars, and I wanted to see them with him. “

   “ So, you were the ringleader. “

   “ I was not! “ He protested loudly, and he was immediately shushed, large digits tapping at his side. He chirped irritably, flicking his wings to smack at his sire’s plating. The tip of one was pinched. “ You’re going to wake up Crossfire, “ He was warned.

   The sparkling peered over his sire’s broad, heavy shoulder, where his littlest trinemate slept beneath piles upon piles of thin mesh blankets, designed not to hurt if they got tangled around his sore wings. He'd rolled over at the angry squeak from him brother, his small face screwed up as if irritated even in sleep. Nightlife bit his lipplates and went quiet.

   He rumbled a purr as the edge where he'd been pinched was gently rubbed in a silent apology. After a moment's hesitation, he dropped his helm down onto his shoulder, tucking in close to his neck. He could feel the metal vibrating beneath his cheekplate, set off by his own engines. His Sire chuckled close to his audial, and a cold nose was briefly pressed to his helm in a soft nuzzle.

   His Sire was hardly affectionate, but when he was it was always a gentle touch, whether it be to their backplates or one of their small helms. It was a sharp contrast to that of his strong, bold personality. Many didn’t believe he could be soft, even to his own children. Stormshot churred happily from the opposite arm, and he could see his own wings being gently pat. He blinked, and curled closer to his frame.

   As he in-vented, he recognized an odd smell lingering on his plating. It was familiar to the sparkling, but odd to find on his creator’s body. It was a strong windswept thing, lingering with jet fuel and expensive polishes. The same that was smeared across his wings whenever they had to go in front of the army themselves. It was comforting, and he cooed quietly.

   “ Sire? “

   “ Yes, Sparklet? “

   “ Is Carrier home? “

   Neck cables flexed beneath his nose, and the gentle petting stilled. “ And why do you think that? “

   “ Hmm...you smell like he does… “

   A grumble of “ Seekers, “ and his hand moved again. “ He is, little one. He and your Unais got back not too long ago. “

   Stormshot perked up, and he could feel his field pressing against his own, alight with happiness. “ Is he okay? Can we see him? “

   Megatron shook his helm and pressed a servo to his mouth, shushing him. “ He's tired, Storm. They've had a long mission, and he needs to recharge. You'll be able to see him in the morning. “

   His brother’s beginning whine sparked something in his own processor, and he added in his own weak whimper in protest, pawing at his chestplates. His tiny claws skittered against steeled plating, and his eyes finally noticed that they followed a much larger, partially buffed scratch worn into his plating. His servo was grabbed, and pulled away.

   “ Nightlock, Stormshot, “ Megatron scolded, voice sharp. The earlier warmth was gone. “ Don’t _whine_. No sparkling of mine will act in this nature, no matter how much your carrier might screech. You will see him tomorrow, and that is final. “

   His engine gave an angry growl, but a sharp responding rev shut him up. He turned his head away from his neck, pursing his lips. It wasn’t a pout. He didn’t pout.

   His Sire exvented hard enough to ruffle his sensitive flight sensors. He gave a tiny flick to shake off the tingling it left behind. When he spared another look up at Megatron, he saw his optics alight with irritation and restrained anger, staring past them above his head. His top joints dropped, bringing down the rest of the oversized planes with them. He should not have pushed at his sire. Now he was angry, and he was never nice when he was angry. Not even to him and his brothers.

   “ I think it’s time you two go to recharge, _as you should already be_. ; The words held a bite that made his spark pulse weakly in guilt. He snuggled to his chassis and cooed weakly, sagging further when his apology went unacknowledged by the former gladiator.

   His frame bounced as his sire began walking towards their berths, his servos pressing into his thin hip plating. He wanted to protest, the hard pressure stinging his joints, but he caught the aggressive optics once more and he clamped his mouth shut tight. His vantage point tipped suddenly and he instinctively scrabbled at his shoulder guards, squawking. One of Nightlock’s legs kicked out, and the fin caught against Megatron’s prominent hip plating. The mental twanged as it hit and pain flashed through the thin metal, but his back hit the berth before he could complain further. He huffed hard as his back hit the soft padding.

   The mesh was soft and welcome on his wings. He stretched out his backstruts, frame shivering as he relaxed. The padding dipped as his sire sat next to him, Stormshot still clinging tightly to his plating. The blanket he laid on top of was tugged on and he curled his body up, allowing his sire to slide it out from beneath him. It was draped across his frame and tucked in around him chin. The thick material was a welcome warmth to his cold nipped body and he chuffed happily, tangling his hands in the fabric and holding it close.

   A shadow fell across him, and he whined in irritation when his sire pressed his nose to his cheek. He tried to twist his adopted away but he couldn’t avoid the oddly gentle kiss placed on his nose. When he looked up, he could see his expression had softened out. “ You’re a little pit spawn, aren’t you? “

   Nightlock laughed, and ducked his head down into his blanket. _At least he isn’t mad at me anymore_.

   Megatron patted his leg, and gave the aching fin a quick rub. It tickled, and he kicked out his foot, narrowly missing hitting his sire once more. He chuckled and stood up, adjusting Stormshot in his arms as he carried him over to his own berth. Nightlock watched them a moment before turning and burying his face against the mesh beneath him. He could heard their quiet voices from the other side of the berth beside his, his brother’s laced with tiny giggles.

   The noise quieted down for a moment, then Stormshot whispered, “ Sire? “

   A pause. “ Yes, Stormshot? “

   “ Do you...do you think that we could see Cybertron from here? On Earth? “

   So he was still wrapped up on the planets. He rolled himself over to face his brother, who was sitting up and looking at their creator. His wings were low, and twitched lightly as he waited, hands folded in his lap. His sire raised an optic ridge at him, as if he didn’t quite know how to answer. He looked out towards the window, and Nightlock tucked himself lower down, hoping he could look like he was trying to be asleep. It wasn’t his conversation, after all- Carrier didn’t like him listening in. Not after he heard him talking about their sire to their Unais. He still didn’t know what he meant...why had his creators been up so late, anyways? Wouldn’t they have been tired? No one would tell him.

   Old joints groaned as Megatron sat back down next to the young sparkling. He still towered over the biggest of his children, despite his shrunk position. The seekerling perked up a bit as a large hand was placed on his knee, their sire leaning down to look him better in the eye.

   “ Stormshot...do you believe that you can? “

   The question made the big sparkling noticeably pause as he thought it over. “ ...Yeah. There’s a planet outside, and it’s big and pretty...and carrier said it’s pretty, isn’t it? “

   Megatron smiled. “ It’s gorgeous, seekerlet. You would love it- you’d have so much room to fly, and to play with your brothers...and there were gorgeous crystal forests and, “ he paused to laugh, “ you would have loved its cybercats. Before they went feral, of course…”

   “ Cybercats? “

  “ Do you remember the Earth felines in the documentary that you watched with Outburst? “

   ‘ _He knows about that_?’

   “ Yeah…? “ His brother sounded as confused as he was. They thought that they had been sneaky enough while watching it...

   “ They’re very similar to them. They look like Ravage as well, but most are bigger. “

   “ Oh...they must be really beautiful… “

   “ They are. Your carrier was very fond of them- but they didn't like the heights of Vos's towers. “

   His sire reached out to pet his brother’s round helm. “ Little one...I believe that it could be Cybertron. “ He couldn't see it, but he could only guess that Stormshot’s optics had just grown several shades brighter.

   “ But...why can't we fly home, then? It's so close… “

   “ We don't have the resources to do so. And your little thrusters are too small to get you anywhere, bitlet. Yours or your brothers. Crossfire can't even fly yet. “

   “ But Carrier could carry us, couldn't he? “

   “ You're too big for that now. “ A sad chirr, and his sire's gentle hushing. “ Don't you worry about that, Storm. You'll be home before you know it. I’ll make sure of that. Now, “ He pushed lightly on his brother, urging him to law back down. “ It's time you go to recharge. You don't want to be tired for your carrier, do you? “

   His brother shook his head, and let himself lean back into the large pile of pillows he had behind him, to support his backstruts. Their site pressed a light kiss to his cheek before pulling away, standing back up over his son.

   “ Night, Sire, “ Stormshot murmured, voice muffler by his blankets.

   “ Goodnight, Stormshot. Nightlock. “ His wings perked up, and he raised his head to give Megatron a smile. “ Goodnight, “ He chirped in a small voice, dipping his head lightly. He lingered for a moment before nodding at him, and turning for the door. They slid to the side, out of his way, and he stepped through. They closed behind him with a whoosh.

   The room felt a lot emptier without his creator’s hulking frame taking up space. A cold breeze from the ceiling vents caught his helm plating and he shivered, dropping back down to curl into the warm meshes that covered him. Everything was quiet now (He didn't like the quiet around his brothers.) but it gave him a chance to think about all he'd heard that night.

   “ Stormshot? “ He whispered, once the silence became strong and the their vents began to even out. He didn't want to forget this when he fell asleep.

   “ Yeah, Nightlock? “ His voice was quiet, and thickening with sleepiness.

   “ ...I...I think it’s Cybertron, too. “

   A quiet, happy hum followed him. “ I knew you did. It really is pretty, isn’t it? “

   “ ...Yeah… “

  A yawn.“...I wonder if the Autobots can see it, too… “ Stormshot mumbled, his blanket shuffling as he moved around. Nightlock paused, his wings twitching as he thought about what his brother had said. It made sense, that they were also able to see it. But did they care? After all, hadn’t they been most of the reason why their planet was destroyed? Why would they care if they could see it from Earth, too?

   “ Do you really think that, Stormshot? “ He asked.

   He wasn’t answered, and when he pushed himself up to balance on his arms he could see his brother way lying on his front, wings splayed out awkwardly. His vents rumbled as he slept, cheeks dusted red as his dim optics fluttered beneath their lids. He watched him for a long minute before dropping back down with a sharp exvent. He rolled onto his side, looking out of the window at the dark night sky, where the stars still twinkled around Earth’s one moon.

   The warmth of the blankets and the gentle whooshing of Crossfire’s heavy vents eventually brought his eyes down, and after a brief fight he let his optics dim and them offline. The familiar noises of his brothers soothed his systems, and, slowly, he allowed them to lull him to sleep.

   ‘ _I think they can see it_ ,; He thought, processor sliding into the fog of recharge. ‘ _I think the Autobots can see Cybertron, too._ ;

**_——_ **

**_And stometime our compass breaks  
And our steady true north fades  
We’ll be just fine_ **

**Author's Note:**

> West - Sleeping at Last
> 
> any critique is welcome!


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